FlashFics
by sulliedsoles
Summary: A collection of flashfic entries for various contests. Giving it the M rating to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**This was my very first flash posted on The Lemonade Stand for their Flash-Fic Fridays. (Go visit them at www dot tehlemonadestand dot net. Dooooeeeeet!) Prompt was New-Moon-Suicidal-Bella in her room after Edward had left her, with the caption "Who else can I talk to? I'm lost...".**

**Twilight and all our favorite playmates belong in the playground Stephenie Meyer built, and I don't own them. They're just so damn fun.**

* * *

I keep my eyes down, lock my muscles in place. Desolate and frozen, I do not make a move. This is my only defense.

Edward stalks around me, sneering and cruel. "Look at you, Bella. So pathetic. You can't even look at me, can you?"

My eyes stay on the floor.

"Little Bella with the irresistible scent," he half-laughs, and I can picture his garnet eyes mocking. "My life-ruining, peace-stealing prison. But still, so utterly helpless against me."

He slides long, ice-cold and sublimely elegant fingers into my palm, turning and lifting my hand. I feel his eyes on me, hopeful. I give him nothing.

The tip of his nose glides along my wrist before I feel his teeth clamp down over already scarred skin. I close my eyes and stay still through the heat and pain and thrill of it. When he pulls away, he has a bandage ready. I'm sure I'm nearly as pale as he is now, our skin so close to matching. Monsters, both of us.

He leans forward to breathe cruelty over my face, to speak viciousness right into my bones. He bathes me in the scent of my own blood mixed with his sugary-sweet breath. My stomach turns.

"Tell me it was worth it, our losing everything to belong to each other. Tell me something..."

His voice trails at the end and I almost, almost give in.

"Goodnight Isabella," he whispers before he vanishes, turning off the light and locking the door, leaving me where he found me.

"I'll set us free," I promise, barely above a whisper, wishing then unwishing that he hears. I rip the bandage off quickly and in the barely-there moonlight watch sticky red slip and slide and drip to the floor.

* * *

**I like feedback. For real tho.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This was my second ever posting. And it won second place! I was completely surprised and flattered. **

**Contest was on fanficflashfic dot blogspot dot com. (Seriously good stuff on this site. Go check it out.) First prompt was an image from The Incredibles (I ship Pixar, okay?) of Violet - the invisible girl - saying "He looked at me." Second prompt was a quote from The Notebook: "Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: they are shooting stars- a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they're gone."**

**Twilight and all our favorite playmates belong in the playground Stephenie Meyer built, and I don't own them. They're just so damn fun.**

* * *

The first concert of the summer doesn't disappoint. It's all heat and sweat and mud, spilled beer and stumbles. My girls snake through the crowd and I'm following, unlit cigarette and iPhone in hand, until Ally-girl gasps.

"He's here."

I know exactly who she means.

You're standing to our left holding her hand. Your hair's a mess because she's wearing your hat, and I want to rip it off her bottle-blond head. Alice tugs my arm.

"C'mon," she says. I don't budge. I'm too busy gawking at that goddamned jaw of yours.

"Wow," I mutter. No way you heard that, but your eyes find mine.

"He's staring..." Alice whispers.

"No shit," I whisper back. At least I know I'm not hallucinating.

I expect you to look away, but instead this sinister smirk-grin creeps over your lips and I find myself smiling in response, tucking the cigarette between my lips, coy and confident. Your right eyebrow goes up, and my heart twists.

Neon green flashes from the stage and the show starts. You look away and Ally says, way too loud, "What the actual fuck was that?"

I shrug, light my cigarette and exhale, perma-smile in place. "He looked at me."

* * *

**I like feedback. For real tho.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another entry for TLS's Flash-Fic Friday...the prompt was a couple on the beach, the girl jumping onto the guy's back. 33**

**Twilight and all our favorite playmates belong in the playground Stephenie Meyer built, and I don't own them. They're just so damn fun.**

* * *

I look down the beach to the left, then to the right. I can't believe how empty it is.

It's late August, and here, it's almost too cold for this. But passing up my first glimpse of the Atlantic wasn't an option. I panicked when Edward threatened to keep driving. With a wicked flicker in his gold-green eyes, he leaned across the console and teased, "We can't be late for college, Bella baby."

I begged. I pleaded. I promised him head.

I breathe deep, trying to root salt, powder-soft sand, and heavy ocean air into my lungs. It's not until I close my eyes that I really feel the breeze and how alive it makes my skin. I hear his low chuckle right before he thumps my shoulder. "Daydreaming, pretty girl? C'mon, let's do this." He's striding confident, ripping off sneakers, then socks, leaving a careless trail down the dune toward the rolling waves.

I stay. Because I want to watch him pull his shirt up and over tousled and three-days-dirty hair. Because I want to see his back muscles, his low-hanging dark wash jeans, and his ass. I need to look at my boy.

"Get down here," he yells over his shoulder. I smile and keep watching until I cannot stand to be not touching him.

I tug soft black cotton over my head and kick off my two-buck flip flops, then bolt. He hears me coming, but he doesn't turn around, just braces himself for me. One, two, three more steps, then I leap, slinging long limbs and wrapping him up.

It takes a few seconds for him to realize, to really feel. He stops dead in his tracks and accuses. "Bella, are you topless?"

And I can't help but laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

**These two were for fanficflashfic - prompts were: a picture of pinkies interlocked with a sunset (or sunrise?) in the background and a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, "Do one thing every day that scares you."**

**Twilight and all our favorite playmates belong in the playground Stephenie Meyer built, and I don't own them. They're just so damn fun.**

* * *

I thought the phone call would be the worst part.

His reaction was violent. He made this inhuman noise - visceral and deep. I can still hear it. I can still see his rock solid body crumpled on the floor, his skin so drained it turned translucent and revealed fragile backbones and ribs.

Then he disappeared into the bathroom, vomiting between bone-wracking sobs.

Sounds I'll never forget.

I was wrong. The phone call was hard, but this is harder. The sunset is so beautiful it hurts, and I send a silent string of profanity toward heaven for mocking us like this. I question if there's a God at all.

We're standing in the hospital parking lot, facing sterile pale bricks. He's motionless, like if he doesn't go in, this won't be real. But he's the only one who can identify the body.

I don't know what to do, but I take a deep breath. I steel my nerves, because one of us has to, and he's incapable. Inside I'm cracked and crumbling, but I reach out a shaking pinky finger and loop it through his. He doesn't look at me, but he follows each step, headfirst into reality.

* * *

I'm questioning choices now. I'm cornered and backpedaling. I remind myself: Once in a lifetime opportunity.

Bella's putting on a brave face, but she's never been a good actress. I can read her, and she's terrified.

So am I.

"It's only a summer," she whispers. I wonder if she means for me to hear.

I lift overstuffed bags, crisscrossing straps so I have one free arm. Her expression goes from sorrow to empty acceptance.

My heart splinters. I know it won't recover until I'm on the same soil as she is again.

I want to back out, to have one last summer together before college. I want to cancel this fucking flight.

Instead, I hug her quickly. Before I walk away, she grabs my hand and pulls me back, holding me tighter than I thought possible.

"I love you I love you I love you," she repeats into my ear.

Bella drifts, our bodies losing contact until it's just our hands. She removes her fingers one by one, clinging when her smallest finger grips mine, giving me one more sad smile. Then she's gone, leaving me standing outside the airport, the sunrise at my back.


End file.
